A Life for Me
by Pavy
Summary: When a team is dispatched to investigate molecular disturbances originating on a Class M planet, Spock and Uhura are subsequently stranded... and forced to throw in their lot with a crew of brigands on the high seas.
1. Disaster

_Hi everyone, none of this mine anyway, and I've had the sudden urge to write a Star Trek fanfic. I got inspired by Rolletti's Spock/Uhura website to just write a fun adventure fic, hope everybody likes it. _

When Nyota Uhura, Starfleet Lieutenant, found herself using both standard and non-standard training skills to fend off a pair of drunken men in a sleazy seaside bar, she knew the mission had gone horribly wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong.

"The mission is simple. The planet's name is Almyrov, a roughly analogous atmosphere to Earth, about half the planet is covered in water," Kirk had informed the senior staff only three days before in the briefing room.

Spock's deep concern over elevated neutrino levels in the sector, disturbances seemingly centered around this planet Almyrov, had resulted in the formation of an investigation team. Largely a pre-industrial society, with advancements only reaching similar standards of 18th century Terran technology, it seemed unlikely that any mechanism there could intentionally interfere with these readings.

"But we're sending Spock anyway, of course, to conduct research. And we're also going to need a communications liaison on the planet's surface." The captain looked around, hemmed and hawed, before setting his gaze on her. "So how about it Uhura, ready for the cause?"

Despite Spock's glower and sharp glance at the captain, Uhura had accepted. After arriving on the planet, she had been sent to the tavern to meet with two contacts rumored to be experts in local scientific phenomena. This was false, she had discovered, after the two had tried to arrest her on sight. Well, after she had waited for them for two hours, during which she was forced to drink as much wine and beer as the rest of the occupants there, so as to not arouse suspicion. Which was proven to be a cultural habit by the fact that the two government spies had also shown up drunk, accounting for their lateness.

Blood poured from the duo's bloody noses, darkening their beards, and splashing on to their filthy tunics, stretched tight over their guts. She awkwardly dodged a running punch from the first malcontent, and barely avoided a frustrated kick from the other. They were drunk, impressively so, and the fight would have been more even if Uhura had been able to proclaim differently.

A well-timed blow by a ragged barstool knocked out the first aggressor. The second, frightened and swaying from either drink or injury, stood impassively still when she saved all her force to repeat the tactic. The stool's legs broke, clattering by his side as he fell unconscious on the dirty wooden floor.

"And don't you forget it." She jabbed her finger at the two, and swayed unevenly. The crowd who before had been held in rapt attention nervously looked elsewhere.

Where in the galaxies was Spock? He should have been back already. Uhura's wandering mind thought of his hands, his touch, and a silly smile appeared on her face. No, she needed to be serious. She frowned, trying to remember where she needed to be.

No such luck. "Lieutenant." He appeared behind her. Spock's eyes were flat, his tone even more so. He was dressed in black leggings and a high collared tunic that fell to his knees. He looked distinguished, noble even. She in turn was dressed in traditional Almyrovian female garments, long skirt, sheer shawl, and a plain woven shirt. And after drinking and fighting in these clothes, she probably looked more like a ragamuffin.

"Spock." She smiled cautiously.

He grabbed her hand, and Uhura found herself out of the tavern into the cobbled streets, led by the hand by a terse Vulcan.

"Where's the rest of the crew?" she managed to slur out.

" Still on the Enterprise. The mission has so far proved unsatisfactory. The planet's neutrino levels are interfering with our communication and transport systems."

"We're stuck?"

"In a word, yes."

They both heard a clattering in the distance, perhaps a daily march of the city conducted by the local soldiers. As if they were threatening the citizens to continue acting obediently, rather than for reasons of reassurance against outside threats.

Spock dragged her to a nearby ally, waiting until the sounds passed. She saw the stressed eyes and stance, the tense upward curl of his shoulder. Leaning closer, she let her face fall against his chest.

"I worry for your safety," he admitted.

"I'll be alright". Her voice came out as a whisper.

Spock bowed his head and pressed a kiss against her neck. He released his breath slowly. "Let us go. I have procured us passage out of this city. I have already left an encoded message to the Enterprise that they should receive once the systems are back in order. You will also have to determine how to contact them more efficiently once we have left."

Possibly half an hour later, dodging through narrow streets, crowds of people, trinket stands, food markets, and the stench of unbought fish, they arrived at their destination. Which was, apparently, an abandoned cliff by the sea, high bluffs by sparkling water.

"We leave by ship?" she asked him, wondering why this had not occurred to her before. Oh right. The beer. She wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere and sleep.

She followed Spock down to the water, where one solitary ship hid before the rocks. After a few moments, a figure emerged to greet them, stomping along jubilantly. He had tanned skin, bleached brown hair, and soiled tunic and trousers.

"Greetings, fair travelers. I am Sutan, as you must know. I have already met you, Mr. Spock, and if I may so enquire, who is this lovely personage next to your person? You did not tell me she was female."

"She is Uhura." Spock's voice, though reasonably even, contained a very evident threat.

"So, ah, is this your woman?" Sutan asked, looking at her from face to foot. Spock's expression did not falter, yet she heard the hesitation.

"Don't worry, I already know." He smiled, revealing a mostly intact set of teeth, and clapped Spock on the shoulder. "We'll take care of your man," he addressed to Uhura, and bade the two to board the ship. "A woman who likes her drink! Already, she fits quite in," he bellowed back towards his crew.

Uhura swallowed, knowing what he must have noticed the scent of alcohol on her skin. And also just realizing why this ship was hidden, and who they were traveling with. Brigands. Sweet and merciful saints. They were to travel the Almyrov seas in a pirate ship.

She was going to kill Spock.


	2. A World of Storytellers

_On to Chapter 2!_

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Their cabin was musty and cramped, but at least it was their own, so who knows how much Spock paid Sutan to get it. Uhura lay face down on the bed, hoping it was clean, being too tired to move or to go to sleep. She only grunted slightly when she felt Spock's breath hit her shoulders.

"Nyota. It is imperative you obtain proper rest throughout the course of our journey."

"No thanks." Perhaps the alcohol wasn't wearing off as quickly as it should.

"Nyota, it would be deleterious to the mission if you are not of the proper mental state to reconfigure our communication controls." His voice remained calm.

"Are you calling me selfish? Is that what this is?" Uhura didn't even feel particularly upset, only contrary. She turned and faced him on the bed.

"Nyota—"

"I am so giving. I still have a crick on my jaw from last Monday, I was so charitable to you. Two times in one day, Spock, giving head. Who does that."

"Nyota—"

"I could barely talk the next day, for being so freaking gracious."

"Nyota! I do not see how recollections of past sexual encounters are relevant."

Uhura smiled at his warning tone, and hugged him. "Please don't get mad. Whatever you say, Spock," she murmured.

After the release of a very audible sigh, he lifted her in his arms and underneath the covers. "Sleep well, aduna."

"G'night," she said inaccurately before curling up on her side.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Even the late afternoon light was unwelcome. Uhura woke painfully, and stretched her arms with a groan. "Have you seen the ship yet?" she addressed to the somber figure standing in the corner.

"No. We must meet the crew together. And in the following days I will go without sleep until I can ensure us of your safety."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "And yours of course." No answer.

Uhura heard him walk over to her side, and sit on the bed. She slowly opened her eyes, only to detect mischief in his gaze. "Feeling less….hydrated today?" he asked, kissing her cheek.

She pouted, and gave a mock slap to his face. He only kissed her outstretched fingers, looking at her carefully.

He nodded, her hand still twined in his fingers, as if to reassure himself. "Let us go and meet the crew. I did not want to leave you unattended."

Ten minutes later they left the cabin. Wincing at the weak sunlight, Uhura felt her eyeballs prickle and her entire mouth sour. They attracted the notice of a dark haired woman, wearing nondescript khaki colored trousers to her waist, high laced boots, subdued amber jewelry against a bright yellow silk-like top, revealing bare shoulders, and finally earrings that looked suspiciously like bones. She strode to their side, and squared her shoulders.

"You have not met me," she began. "I am Siriya, the quartermaster."

A yell from a crewman washing the deck yelled, "please go to her if you feel compelled to voice any complaints as to the state of your quarters!"

With a look remarkably similar to Spock's when annoyed, she continued. "You are not from these lands, so I will tell you of our ways. We are all of the sea now, and it is a right reserved to every traveler of the ocean that they hear our stories, as our lives are one. There are no secrets on the seas."

Uhura and Spock shared a glance before another woman appeared, similarly dressed to Siriya, but without the jewelry. By the deflated countenance of the quartermaster, what would happen next would not be customary. "Mine! Mine! It is my right as well," she proclaimed enthusiastically, if unsteadily. Her red hair whipped around her face as she shook her head, as if to clear her mind.

"You see," she started, tossing her arms excitedly, "I was a young girl, many years from today, the emperor himself came to my village. I was throwing rocks at the apple tree. One missed, and instead struck his fancy hooded hat that fell on the ground, and I saw fittingly, it was the color red, of blood, of beginnings. I was banished within two days for reasons of general disgrace and dishonor, leaving behind my sobbing brothers, my mother stern and proud, who threw me out of the house with barely a smile. Nowhere to go, without friends, without drink,"

"I think I know which absence bothered her more," interrupted Sutan, coming up behind them.

"Until I saw a ship, by the sea, near here, majestic sails I say, billowing white like clean bed sheets after laundry, well pressed wood, a man with a scope, looking, looking quite odd I must say —"

"Enough, Tillis," interjected Sutan, sliding his arms by her shoulders and kissing her temple. "You can tell them this later."

"Yes." She frowned. "I'm afraid I'm soused."

Uhura could sympathize.

"I will tell them my story," Siriya declared, a look of bravery on her face. She attracted the notice of the rest of the crewmembers, who stopped their work above deck to pay attention. The afternoon light barely lingered, and the sky's blue deepened and darkened as it approached night. The salt and breeze in the air lulled and calmed Uhura's body, the rocking of the moving floorboards no longer so irritating.

Siriya walked to the forefront of the ship, climbed the gallery, and addressed the crowd below. "I was a young girl, naive and innocent. I loved him enough. He was twenty, I seventeen. He vowed his love to me. Every day I went out to see him in our village even though it was frowned upon, I went to him at his bidding, and we lived together secretly for two years. And when I was nineteen, he had to leave to the city, and I could no longer be with the one I loved. I searched for him, I saw him again after five years of sorrow and asked to live with him once more, and he looked at me with cold eyes, and said this was not possible, that he had another. I curse his name every day for taking my love, because I love him still, because one day I will steal what he has taken. I will look into his eyes, melted now and spoiled, and demand it back. His soul is riddled with holes, a soul he cannot see through his lank eyes. I am Siriya, and I shall love no one on this earth, because I will kill them."

Tillis, in Sutan's embrace, was in tears. No other crewmate said a word. After a significant pause, the quartermaster looked at the foreign pair. "Do you, Uhura, or you, Spock, wish to share your story?"

"We respectfully decline the offer," Spock said immediately.

"That is acceptable. There is one other alternative." She turned to declare at the rest of the men and women, "a drinking contest, it is!" A cheer went up between the pirates.


	3. The Final Blow

_Hope you like this chapter! _

_______________________________________________________________________________________

To this pronouncement, Spock merely raised his eyebrow. Uhura had already learned that he sometimes employed this gesture to mask hesitation, and buy a few extra seconds. "Does this require both Uhura and I to participate?" he finally queried, his face very still.

"Is your woman a weakling, Mr. Spock?" Siriya asked in return, arching an eyebrow of her own. Uhura heard the beginning of laughter in the pirates still watching the spectacle.

"Hardly. I wish to take her place, as I want her to be fully responsive when we engage in sexual intercourse afterwards."

Well. Good God, she was on a pirate ship, for God's sake, trying to get out of a drinking contest, with Spock actively voicing his desire to have sex with her to complete strangers. She tried to keep a straight face so badly her face might be looking possessed.

Uhura squinted. Was Siriya, _misty-eyed_?

"You are a romantic soul, Mr. Spock. Old-fashioned, one could claim, but honorable as well." She gave him a beatific smile, as the rest of the women nodded in agreement with sparkling eyes. Somewhere, Uhura heard Tillis give a throaty sob.

Oh Lord. She was now simultaneously horrified and turned on.

"Let him! Let him!" shouted the crowd at Siriya. But she heard a few grumbles from the men.

After a showman's pause, the quartermaster finally yelled, "yes! He may have his wish. But he must also prove his physical prowess... by a drinking contest and then a battle to the death! Or to the first unconscious fighter, if you prefer."

"No!" shouted Sutan from the crowd, attracting startled glances around him. "I know my rights," he continued, strutting to the front of the mass. "I want to drink and fight with him, as it is my right as captain."

Ignoring the look of fury on Siriya's face, he repeated "I'm the captain of this ship!".

Finally, Sutan and Siriya came to an agreement after conducting a lengthy negotiation process. One in which the crew lost interest quickly and left elswhere, as they haggled over pints owed, silver borrowed, and one unfair appropriation of a tri-horned fish nine months back in the port of Spirlas.

"It is settled," Sutan finally summarized happily to Spock and Uhura, forced to wait until the conclusion. A drinking contest with Siriya, and then a fighting match with me. First blood, first blow, first body dragged unconscious by master combat skills.

"In one hour, our battle of honor!"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"How are you feeling?" Spock asked her, his body wrapped around hers on their bed, as they waited for the challenge in their cabin. He had taken off his shirt, purportedly for "physical preparation for the alcohol-imbibing and pugilistic contest," but had immediately drawn to Uhura's side instead.

"A little sore from the fight yesterday," she said absently.

He delicately unlaced her shirt in the back, and Uhura shivered. She sighed as he traced her bruises tenderly with her mouth. He finished, laying his head on her spine, the tip of his ear indenting her skin.

"I prefer it like this," he said, without ready context.

Not understanding, Uhura turned around and weaved her arm through his shoulder. His face looked appropriately serious.

"We are not separated here, as we share one room. It is preferable," he explained.

"We don't have to live in different quarters on the Enterprise," she remonstrated with a small smile.

"We are not yet bonded. It would risk being seen untoward." He frowned, a light twinge of the eyebrows and mouth.

"And with all the stuff I let you do to me all the time? How long has it been?" she asked, trying for a sultry look before descending to laughter.

"We have been companions of the flesh for two years. In other words, I have been inside you acting untowardly for an intermittent span of seven hundred days."

Her breath hitched. Oh yes, there was a reason she loved this man. While she stroked her fingers down his naked back, he gave her an undeniably pleased look. He moved his mouth next to hers, and she felt the release of hot breath in her throat.

"And before that, you used to flirt with me." Uhura smiled confidently next to his lips.

"You misunderstand. Vulcans do not flirt."

"You placed your hand on my thigh before we had even kissed. Don't you forget it, doll."

"That was natural sexual compulsion, not flirting as you define it." Spock glided his tongue across her teeth, the upper rind of her lips. Her nerves awakened, like strong-herbed tea was coated with his kisses, like the feel of caffeine and cool mint. Now this would be usually a prelude to undressing her but—

"Please, companion of my flesh, no fooling around yet," she lectured against the pull of his mouth, hypocritically trailing her index finger over his nipple, "you must get off me, so I do the communication frequency logarithms."

His eyes appeared slightly aggrieved, his version of a pout, before a subdued smirk overtook him as if a promise for later. He slid off the bed and prepared to stretch in light of the upcoming battle. Stretches of skin rippled over his ribs as he bent his torso sideways, she noticed with a smile, before looking down to her work.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

And the fight begun.

Uhura's analysis so far would be that Spock would make the worst actor in the world. He made Kalia, a Trill actress known for having "spots more expressive than her face", look like Katherine Hepburn. Spock had already confided to Uhura that he did not wish to offend the Almyrov pirates by dispatching of them too quickly, nor allow them the final advantage. Sitting across from Siriya on a rickety bench, he impassively slurped down jug of ale after ale. However, every few minutes, as if finally remembering as to appear effected, would sway slightly…. and cross his eyes? The once screaming crowd, tossing coins and placing bets, now took on a puzzled air.

"Perhaps it's a cultural tradition," Tillis remarked to Sutan, gesturing to her upper face.

Siriya was certainly making a more convincing job of it, shaking her fist lazily at Spock in a gesture of defiance. "One more drink, Mr. Spock," she managed, "and you will fall."

As if in answer, Spock lunged deeper from side to side with his torso, his face still as stiff as ever.

"You're breaking him! You're breaking him!" the pirates screamed.

"I knew it! I knew it, you offshore weakling!" In a second, Siriya's triumphant chortling turned to silence when her head smashed on the table and stayed.

"Failure," scoffed Sutan, his dark eyes crinkled in disgust, already drawing attention away from the fallen competitor and the depressed grumblings of a few of the crewmates. "Now it is my chance to demonstrate the honor of this ship!"

Spock, the inebriated actor, proved no more skillful in subterfuge than before. He tottered towards Sutan, deliberately miscalculating the angle of attack and stumbled in the wrong direction. He then swayed from side to side, and crossed his eyes, staring at a point at the distance.

"Not again," groused Uhura, while the crowd chanted "fight! Fight! Fight!"

This went on for over ten minutes, Spock almost miraculously avoiding any serious attack by Sutan and also missing any opportunity to seriously hit his opponent. The last blow, however, was coming soon.

She saw Spock ready to strike Sutan with his first direct blow, what would necessarily end the match after what he determined to be a respectable time. He lunged securely now, his arm bent over his shoulder to hit, when—

"Enough of this," screamed the newly woken Siriya, and smashed a jug of ale over Spock's head. He fell down into a faint, finally not pretending.

This was an unfortunate development. Uhura sighed in defeat. As if on cue, the crew all looked at her. With a grimace on her face and legs shaking Uhura stepped forward to proclaim, "I shall resume the challenge in his place!" before the approving roar of the crowd overtook the rest of her words.


	4. Link

Uhura wasn't nearly half the fighter Spock was. First of all, she was human, and female, two facts that made his physical abilities more than triple to hers. She was also slender. She had trained fiercely at the academy in personal combat and fitness, but her odds were even further decreased after her little rumble with the government spies at the tavern. Her chances of beating Sutan were not necessarily favorable.

But that wouldn't stop her from trying. And yes, for Spock she would fight dirty, claw and scratch and bite.

Sutan made as if to go near Spock's fallen form, but she ran at the same target, sliding on her knee to get there first and crouch by his body.

"Come near him. And I will cut you." Her blood pounded by her heart and head, while her body trembled with adrenaline.

Sutan gave a weak jab at her lowered figure, which she managed to avoid without leaving Spock's vicinity. She swung out her leg, from which he leapt out of the way, but then was hit in the underside of his chin with her fist while he was distracted.

He sprang up back to his feet—

And stopped.

Uhura readied herself for the next barrage, breathing heavily.

Silence. Then cheering sprang up in the air from the spectators. "She has won him!" she heard declared, amidst ecstatic or mournful pronunciations of those who had gained or lost money.

Sutan's eyes were still at first, but then his face relaxed into his customary smile. "Do you declare him as yours then?"

"Yes. He's mine." Exhaustion, stress, and relief battled inside her. The stained wood underneath her feet seemed to be swaying more than usual. She wasn't sure what just happened, but for now they seemed to be safe.

"For how long then?"

"Forever. No one else goes near him."

Sutan turned to the crowd and raised his arms in celebration. "Then your two hearts beat as one!"

Uhura's head was starting to hurt. What had just happened here?

"Congratulations!" he yelled, and clapped down on her shoulder hard. "Spock is yours!"

Oh. Was he in danger of not being hers? Well then. By her side, Spock shifted, hopefully regaining consciousness. This was going to make an awkward conversation.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Spock took the news of his dangerous position calmly enough.

"When you got knocked out—"

"When I temporarily lost consciousness due to an unforeseen variable—"

"I went by you to take your place in the challenge, you see. But Sutan didn't really get around to fighting me, and instead said that I had won you. If I had lost, under Almyrov law, then you could have been lent out to the women here. Apparently here declaring yourself to another means that you must be willing to risk your life, or have the relationship be broken by others."

"You were standing by me when I woke," he only commented after an appreciable pause, his eyes withdrawn and bleak.

"Yes. I'll always protect you, Spock." She flung her arms around his body lying on the bed and held him close against her shoulder. They lay silent for a few moments.

"Be my wife," he murmured against her neck finally.

"I'm already your woman. Don't be greedy," she said smiling, stroking his cheek with her hand.

His voice was its most measured, and cold, when he spoke again. This meant he had to be restraining turbulent emotions. "I don't care. Stay with me, always."

Uhura rolled her eyes. "I think I've already agreed to it, Señor Spock," she said, giving him a light smack on the head. "Maybe it was the whole 'we are not yet bonded' thing I've never objected to, or the whole 'once we are married' stuff we will do this or that."

"It is only logical to cultivate high personals ambitions." His face was beginning to relax.

"Once we are bonded, by Vulcan law I can challenge your suitors in ritualistic contests in order to regain your honor," she mimicked him, laughing. "And then you made out with me." It was kind of hot, actually, now that she remembered it.

He nodded. "I conclude that you will marry me then."

"Yeah," she whispered, snuggling against him. Uhura gave a shaky breath, her eyes glimmering with tears. She felt fragile, as if close to shattering, like the first night she had spent with him.

"I saw you talking with Siriya afterwards," she mentioned after a few minutes

"She was talking to me about where to get this. It's an Almyrov engagement ring."

"Rather unorthodox, isn't it?"

"Yes." His shoulders stiffened again.

She swallowed. Good lord, was she always this bent before she met Spock? She didn't think so. "Well, I'm game. Do you know how to do it?"

"Yes, I believe so. I can ensure that this will cause you no infection."

He spoke again in a moment. "Discard your upper garments. Lie back on the bed."

She obeyed, trembling. Nyota felt the cool air against her nipples, the rough texture of the blanket's fabric by her back. So exposed, it was almost painful, and an urge overtook her to cup her breasts as if to hide them; which was ridiculous, she had let him see them before.

"Please, lie still." His fingers first swiped the underside of her breast with an antiseptic dressing, and then applied it to the other side.

She closed her eyes. She could only hear the wisp of hypospray stung into her neck, and arched her back against the sound of its cool hiss. She opened her eyes again as he climbed next to her, and her sight seemed flooded, more brilliant and shadowy. The burnt-tip needle entered horizontally, puncturing the nipple's dark skin. Her mouth dried as he paused, taking a quick breath, as he prepared a larger tube to enter her from the opposite side, clamp in hand. He managed it with a focused quirk of his eyebrow, whirled it, and then finally plunged the bar into her skin, and connected the two pieces with only one quick burst of pain.

Almost uncomprehending, that it was hers now, she moved her head to stare at the new ornament. The ring was elaborate, a silver rod tipped with diamond and emerald spheres. Beautiful.

"Where did you get this," her words feeling strange in her mouth. He was still staring before he transferred his gaze to hers.

"I bought it from Tillis. The price was evidently worth it." Spock was still looking at her with the same careful fascination.

Another hypospray treatment, and he she felt a glow on her skin as he carefully raised the protoplaser device over her chest an exact ten seconds. And as if he could not help himself, he lowered his head and gently suckled his new work, and the mélange of saliva, metal, and skin caused her to give a slight gasp as she clenched his body against hers, his hands forming a sure pattern as he swirled the remaining alcohol on his fingers around her hips in desperation to reach her.


	5. A Flicker of Sparks

_Sorry it's been forever! Hope you enjoy the chapter._

Their hands were clasped over his chest, her head on his shoulder. They must leave. It was incontrovertible fact, but the chance of doing so was slim, lessening every day. The Enterprise might search for them a week, possibly two, yet it was their primary duty to journey different star systems, not remain in space circling a single orbit.

They must also plan for the possibility of life on Almyrov for an indefinite time. He had already calculated all foreseeable variables that he could, but again he reviewed the possibilities in his mind: both alive, or dead, one alive, the other perished, a family, multiple children or a single child, other options, other alternatives, what jobs to take, how to provide for her…

And because he could not help it, Spock tugged his mate's ear with his thumb and forefinger. Nyota stirred by his side. He could not help but allow himself a brief feeling of smugness, to see her wake by his side, naked, disheveled, in the aftermath of physical joining. His ejaculate still skirting her thighs, her body sated, claimed, his. Incontrovertibly so.

He would always try to predict every possible outcome, examine the most likely variables. He had already claimed her in the typical Almyrov fashion, however unorthodox it may seem, in order to demonstrate that they were in each other's possession. Logical, Spock could only muse, that in a piratical society even people could become objects of plunder. Both he and Nyota were strangers, vulnerable and unprotected in their eyes. They had been tested, not so much to prove their worthiness to be aboard ship, but as to defend themselves against raid.

Nyota finally woke fully, sighing against his shoulder, lightly scratching her fingernails against his shoulders. "I've won you, my pretty." She tapped her finger against his nose.

Spock felt what one of the emotions he typically experienced in her presence, the most common ones already categorized and listed in his mind. Love, although he never say it, nervousness, arousal, joy, fulfillment, irritation, exasperation, and fondness. The latter is what he felt now. He clutched her hand and kissed her knuckles in tribute.

She only kissed up the arch of his eyebrow, lingering at its tip, before leaving the bed. "I have to finish the communication algorithms," she explained unnecessarily, and Spock had to quell the urge to pull her close to him once more.

VVVV

"You showed great honor." Tillis idly commented, while she sharpened her blade against a whetstone , short-lived sparks idly flickering by her hands.

"And even now—" remarked another female, Aylia, a mischievous and heart-faced friend of Tillis, "his eyes do not leave you."

"Ever," interjected Tillis.

"If we started pleasuring ourselves right on deck, he would barely notice, only to see it as not a physical threat, and look elsewhere."

Uhura was sitting on the deck, idly listening to the slap of the waves against the ship, the yells of the crew as they adjusted gurneys, ropes and direction. She had nothing else to do, having finished her communication models. The computer was assessing the fifteen different logarithms she had constructed, a process that could take hours to days. But if they could contact the Enterprise, her equipment would tell her.

"Is he your first lover?" Tillis smiled wide.

"Do you have children?" continued Aylia.

"Would you sleep with a man older than fifty three? I know many who would be interested."

Wow. Uhura had always considered herself a blunt person, but she was starting to reassess that judgment as of right now. "I don't have any children, and I wouldn't sleep with any man older than fifty three, because I only sleep with Spock."

Aylia pouted. "I have lost ten coins on your response, you know. We have made bets on this. And whether or not you'd give an answer to the first question. But you've pledged with him, yes? "

If Uhura's rare bashful expression wasn't evidence enough, her nod confirmed it.

"Good. Then no other woman can take him from you."

"Excuse me?"

"It's more common to declare raid over a man than a woman. It is our way. We are not just conquerors of gold." She gazed longingly at the waves. "I once had a man obsessed over me. He got upset often though, if I showed attention to other men. I did not appreciate him, alas. I was afraid. I loved him, but I also loved the sea."

Uhura already knew how deeply she loved Spock, boyfriend, best friend, and husband in one. She remembered the day they had traveled to Greece together, the summer before her final year at the Academy. He wordlessly collected her purchases into bags after a long morning of shopping and carried them back to the hotel for her. Later, watching television firmly perched on his lap, in lust, in love, in a deepening friendship, she felt— secure. Secure in their relationship, with her feelings for him. Later Uhura went down to her knees in what was supposed to be an elaborate seduction attempt, but she had yawned, betraying her tiredness, and he merely lifted her body into his lap again, while she giggled helplessly against him, and she fell asleep snuggled by his side.

"I love you, Spock-san," she had told him that night. He grasped her hand in answer.

"It can be terrifying," she said honestly to the two rapt women. "But I couldn't bear life without him."

After a few minutes more of conversation, Uhura found her way to Spock, who was perched above on a railing, observing the activity with the vista of the streaked sky behind him.

"Greetings, Handsome," she told him, giving her most racy smile.

Uhura remembered how last night he had cradled her body under his own in a desperate fervor. She knew he was desperate in his own silent way, that he was afraid, afraid of what they might find, if they might not be able to leave. She saw the fear whenever he looked at her lately.

"Good afternoon, Nyota. Or if you prefer, my beautiful."

She couldn't help but laugh at his calmly delivered flirting. "You know, it's going to be alright Spock, we're not alone," she whispered to him, stepping forward to place her palm on his neck.

His look was encouraging, but then heavy bursts haloed through air, with the shouts of crewmates, the clanging of a bell, discordant in the air, surrounding them, dispelling their moment.

Spock instinctively pulled her close to him. The ship was being attacked.


	6. Chance Skirmish

_On to the battle! I'm using the whole DS9 explanation of counter-rotating neutrino particles here, which will be seen more in the next chapter. Plus I incorporated a revised quote from a season 2 episode of Star Trek, originally between Spock and McCoy. _

VVVVV

"Avast!" shouted the watchmen at the crew, who stood momentarily grim with fear. "Avast!"

Around Spock and Uhura, the pirates sprang into action under orders to go below deck and prepare the cannons. Raucous cries and screams sounded in the air.

"Prepare to die! Prepare to kill! Or prepare to live another die!" shouted Siriya. "Either option, I fight this combat in honor of my lost love, may his cold eyes turn to stone by my hand!"

"For drink!" yelped another.

"For prosperity!"

"For naked men and their underclothes!" The crowd cheered to this proclamation.

"For all of these reasons, to fight," the quartermaster rang out, and pounded her fist to the bright blue sky.

Meanwhile Spock looked in Uhura's eyes, their foreheads touching, and traced a round ear gently with his finger.

"Stay with me," is all he could manage. The first officer breathed heavily, and pressed his lips to hers, molding their mouths together for a few short seconds.

Attack had been one of the possibilities Spock had feared, and he had not found a projected course of action to his liking. At this moment, however, it would be wise to speak to Sutan and obtain an assessment of their chances against the oncoming ships.

He grasped Nyota by the elbow, suppressing the rage and fear that boiled inside of him. He most focus, and protect her. Together, they wound their way through the turbulent crows, the massing of bodies on deck, and the artillery preparation taking place.

"Sutan," he said roughly, spotting the long-haired figure by the side of the ship, silently staring at the perilous distance. "I must speak to you."

The captain turned.

"I must ascertain immediately the weapon capability of this ship, and whether or not it is sufficient to successfully fend off, by my count, the oncoming seven ships. Their warning shots, as I take it, do not bode well for their leniency."

"To be honest, Mr. Spock, with the cannon shots we have, I would be grateful to take out even just one." The pirate's normally jovial face looked strained and determined.

"Then I offer my services. I am a scientist, and am capable of producing technology that would presumably negate their tactical advantages, such as highly concentrated energy beams –"

"That's not necessary, Mr. Spock."

Nyota's short caress at his elbow reminded him to focus, and he strangled this feeling of rage. "Explain."

"You say you're a scientist. So tell me, what brought you this part of the world? I don't think it was hospitality, or our women, since you've already done so well in that department."

He hesitated. "The very substance in this air runs counter to standard readings. This evoked my curiosity."

"We're at the center of the world, or the end of it, either way we're at the juncture. How did you fall unconscious Mr. Spock, during our challenge? Drink barely affected you, your strength, your skill are both higher than mine. Would normally a jug to the head knock you unconscious? Oh, I think not."

"Random chance seemed to operate in your favor in that occasion."

"Luck. Because of luck."

"I believe I said that, Captain."

"Remember one fact, Mr. Spock. Our world runs kilter." Sutan turned and ran to the center of the ship. "Fire!" he bellowed, his hands at his hips, all earlier strain gone. Cannons rang out, and the fire of seven ships came down upon them.

VVVVV

Uhura turned to him as they withdrew from the starboard. "Spock? Are we really going to do this? Use our phasers? What about the Prime Directive." She had to shout to be heard.

"The Prime Directive does not apply in this case." His lips were flattened in a stubborn line.

She sighed, thinking that Kirk and Spock were not so dissimilar as they initially appeared to be.

A cannon hit the upper deck, demolishing the wooden floor amidst the frenzied screams of the pirates. The battle was underway.

The same fear she felt during the battle with the Narada coiled in her stomach, battling the concern for herself with also that of Spock's. But she was a Starfleet Officer, and she would never show weakness in the line of duty.

An iron bomb crashed against the side of the ship, shattering beams. The scent of smoke infiltrated the atmosphere.

A line of pirates crouched by the ship's side, preparing for possible boarding, primitive grenades in their hands. They cautiously held the glass bottles, careful not to shake the powdered iron scraps inside. Others twisted iron balls in stained canvass sacks, ready to throw them at close enemy parties.

"Fire!"again screamed Sutan, his hair waving in the wind.

The most immediate target appeared to be the closest enemy ship. Painted blue and yellow, it struck a more elegant picture than their own vessel. An elaborate wooden statue stood at its forefront, a fanged horned goddess, painted black with white bursts of paint on her body.

Their artillery slammed into the statue, and the wood groaned heavily before falling, splashing into the waiting water. Uhura thought she could detect confusion in the manner of the ship's firing, as its previous steady pace faltered before stopping altogether.

"Their cannon projectiles must not be functioning correctly," Spock observed at her side, finding her hand and clutching it tightly.

The ship burst into flames. The blue and yellow paint melted into the ocean, as the statue's remaining torso descended to the ocean.

"Dead in the water! The gunpowder has failed," crowed Siriya to the pirates. "Like my former lover after a few drinks."

The fanged goddess ship was not the only one to destroy itself. One by one the enemy ships were torn apart by explosion, forcing the crewmates to abandon ship. Uhura saw them burn in the water.

"Their cannons are malfunctioning. Curious. Absorbed moisture and gunpowder may produce hydroxide, thus corroding the iron mechanisms, explaining their failed projectile launches. However, this is an extremely unlikely occurrence, especially for all seven ships."

Around the pair, the scent of smoke burned in the air, now barely noticed. The battle was over. Indeed, it had barely begun.

Amidst the chaos, Sutan found Uhura's mate, and clapped him on the shoulder. "What did I tell you, Mr. Spock? It all comes down to luck."


	7. The Cave of Cursed Spheres

_Thanks for the reviews, guys! It means a lot to me. And now for the seventh chapter!_

VVVVVV

"Slender, but scrumptious."

"A fine sliver of meat, indeed." Tillis, tipsy again, laughed happily.

"I prefer it wide myself, though. Wait, what are we talking about again?" Aylia screwed up her eyes in confusion.

Uhura could only sigh, half-amused despite herself. The two females were playing hooky as the rest of the crew worked on the ship, hiding by the stern. The pirates had already recruited Spock to help in temporary repairs, and had insisted he don typical sea-faring dress beforehand. Thus explaining the two women's ogling. So there was her betrothed lifting and hammering planks: shirtless, in tan breeches, silver-chain necklace, and with a blood-red strip of cloth around his head, hiding the tips of his ears.

"Marry, mate or maim: Sutan, Spock, and Siriya's former lover," challenged Aylia.

"If Siriya's still hung up on him after so many years, he might certainly be worth one night of mating."

"And you, Uhura?"

Oh my. One fact she knew with a Vulcan mate was to never assume he was out of ear range. "I'm afraid both Sutan and Siriya's city man would have to die."

Tillis sighed. "So boringly faithful. If we're lucky you know, we should arrive at dry land soon. This section of the ocean has many small islands. We need to replenish our lumber. In case you want to spend a night with your man under the stars."

Uhura smiled and turned her gaze back to Spock. He was picking up heavy debris as if they were merely toys, the calm and easy movement of his muscles emphasizing his strength. She knew he could crush a computer with a single pound of his fist, but watching it out in the open like this was always fascinating. And the exposed chest, the red strip of cloth, the necklace, it looked almost like her Mr. Spock was indeed becoming a pirate.

But she was waiting here by Tillis and Aylia for a reason. She needed to talk to Sutan, and get some answers. After a few more minutes of waiting, she saw the tanned captain stop to examine the repairs and then stride over to the ship's bow. So now was her chance.

"Captain. I need to speak to you." She strode up to him confidently.

"About our most successful battle? Mr. Spock told me he was here for reasons of science. Do not worry. We are getting close to what will answer your questions."

"How did we win, Sutan?"

"As I told your man, our world runs kilter."

"That is no answer." Uhura lifted her chin, her expression severe. A deep annoyance sprang up in her, this was like talking to Academy-era Kirk again with his deliberate obliviousness.

"To understand, you will have to hear the legend first. The principal legend of Almyrov."

"Please proceed, then." Despite herself, she gave him a frosty smile.

"The Earth Mother of Almyrov, she who had jewels for eyes, and painted diamonds on her skin, because she possessed both the powers of illusion and reality. She is our main deity," he clarified, seeing her look of confusion. "Anyway, she bore two daughters. Yet the daughters pursued mortals for mates, which was forbidden for the otherworlders. Displeased with her daughters, the Earth Mother created the cave of cursed spheres. A place, where according to myth, purple-skinned spheres blink in a plethora of lights, and are only accessible to man at night."

He paused, and sighed in longing. "The spheres affect chance, and opportunities to both fail and succeed are heightened. And so only one daughter achieved completion with her mortal mate, and was allowed to live in harmony together. The other mortal died in a freak accident one morning, by choking, or by the Earth Mother, who knows. In jealousy for her happy life, one daughter destroyed the other. Two immortals dead, and a human now a divine entity. A world off kilter since then."

Uhura furrowed her brow. "So that's what you mean by luck. The laws of chance were then modified after this imbalance in power." So Sutan was saying that Almyrov had altered probability laws, making any event possible, however unlikely? Including seven enemy ships sinking without due cause, apparently.

Was this related to the elevated neutrino levels? Could a phenomenon like this actually affect laws of chance? She would talk this over with Spock once they were alone in their cabin.

One final question. "And what about you, Captain? How have you fared with luck during your lifetime?"

Sutan's mouth twisted humorlessly. "I was once the son of a governor. And I was kidnapped by pirates in a landlocked city. We are all fools to fate. Please tell your man that you and he are both free to explore the Cave of Spheres when we come upon it. I feel it in the air. It's what I've been searching for my whole life. And it awaits."

VVVVVVVV

Once Spock's shift was over, she went up to him once again as he sat astride on the deck railings. He looked even better up close.

"I see by your gaze that you appreciate my change in dress."

Uhura laughed. He should go without a shirt more often. "You look very devious, Sir Spock. A regular pirate if I ever knew one. Nice head band by the way," she drawled, coming closer and lightly touching the red cloth on his forehead.

The acting crewman closed his eyes under her touch. "My Lady Nyota, I have been reviewing typical amorous conduct here, and I have concluded that couples in this ship are very open with their…affections."

True enough, although Tillis was probably the most exhibitionist of all. "Indeed, Monsieur Spock?"

"So I would be open to be more…" He paused. "Direct with my dealings with you. To not take any chances that the crew challenges again that we belong to each other."

"Very logical," she whispered, and tilted her head with a smile. "Let's start immediately then." She stepped in between his legs, and placed her hands on his thighs. His shoulders tensed and so Uhura kissed the edge of his chest, by his collarbone, and then his cheek, before his arms wrapped around her, and he held her soothingly.

They stood like this for a few minutes before Uhura teased, "you can go lower with your hands, you know." She beamed at him, and tugged at his chain necklace. And because she couldn't help but laugh at his scandalized impression, a bit deceiving, if you ask her, after last night and the seven hundred days of "intermittent untoward action", Uhura didn't press him further.

He kissed her instead. He quirked an eyebrow, with a subtle smirk on his face.

"You're making me beg, Spock. Fine, aright, I'll sleep with you already, I'll give it up, gosh," she exclaimed, lightly smacking his arm and sighing exaggeratedly.

"I think the adequate phrase for this situation would be, that ship has already sailed."

She enjoyed this, these few minutes of relaxation before they would have to discuss what Sutan had told her. "What a coincidence! At least we're on it together."

She gave her most charming smile and winked.


End file.
